


Rule of Threes

by tresa_cho



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Pon Farr, Rape/Non-con References, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tresa_cho/pseuds/tresa_cho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An incident planetside leaves the command crew shaken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rule of Threes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kink meme. Original prompt here: http://st-xi-kink-meme.livejournal.com/15838.html?thread=15007454#t15007454
> 
> This work is completely unbetaed. I did my best to portray all incidences with compassion and without intent to insult or harm any concerned parties. I welcome all comments.

“You first, Bones,” Jim said. He shoved Bones, protesting, up onto the transporter pad. Spock pried off the panel covering the console and tugged on the wires. The machine whirred to life with a slight buzz of electricity.

“Jim-” Bones' harsh cry cut off and then he was gone, and two Dreveden plowed through the last remnants of his dematerialisation. Six more swarmed behind them. The two in front raised their bows.

Jim shoved Spock and Uhura.

“Go, go!” he urged. They ran.

Jim hadn't put one foot down before sharp pain exploded at his side, pairing with one in the back of his leg to bring him down. He threw himself out of the line of fire, behind a mostly collapsed wall, his breath exploding from him when he hit the ground. Stunned, he barely heard Uhura call for him. Two sets of hands hooked under his arms and dragged him to his feet. Each of his arms looped around a strong set of shoulders and a voice urged in his ear, “Move your legs, Kirk.”

Easier said than done, when the dilapidated buildings were blinking in and out of his vision. He forced his feet down, stumbling along between them as they dragged him towards the tree line. He could only feel the one leg.

All three of them fell to the ground and the sun blotted out of existence. Jim shifted against an insanely hot body- Spock- and stared up at the ceiling of a cave. “Oh good,” he said, panting. “Are we safe?”

“For the time being,” Uhura said from her position at the lip of the cave. Cave? The sun backlit her entire frame, making her look like a shadow. “I don't hear anything except the wildlife.”

Jim rolled his eyes and saw Spock over him, stripping out of his regulation blues as he split them along the arms. “You wearin' jewelry now, Spock?” Jim asked, pointing to a dart sticking out of Spock's thigh.

“Pardon?” Spock followed his gesture. He tugged the dart out with a grunt of irritation and tossed it further into the cave. He drew his boot knife and stripped the feathers of the arrow stuck through Jim's side.

Oh.

The next thing he knew, Jim was on his back next to a small fire, shirtless, pantless, and somewhat chilled. He groaned and struggled into a sitting position. Uhura was at his side instantly, shrugging out of her outerwear.

“Whoa, Lieutenant, stop. That's not necessary,” Jim said quickly. Uhura completely ignored him and draped her much too small shirt over his shoulders. “Where are my clothes?”

“They're torn and bloodsoaked,” Uhura said. “We had to cut them to get at the wounds.”

“Right,” Jim said, leaning against the wall as the cave spun. “I think you were just overeager to see my gorgeous self.”

Uhura scoffed and rolled her eyes. Good. Situation not Dire. Downgraded from DefCon One to Emergency. He couldn't really feel his leg, but he could see it. It was definitely there, wrapped in Spock's shirt to stem the blood.

“Is it cold in here or is it just me?” Jim asked.

“It's just you. You're running a slight fever,” Uhura said. She cast a hesitant glance at the other side of the fire. Jim followed her eyes, but the shadows obscured whatever she was looking at.

“What is it?”

“There's... a complication,” Uhura admitted.

“Sounds like more than a complication,” Jim said.

“There was a chemical on that dart. The one that struck Spock.” Uhura shifted uneasily. “He's going into pon farr.”

“What?” Jim sat up a bit straighter. “What does that mean?”

Uhura sighed in exasperation. “It means he is going through a severe imbalance of chemicals in his body which are sending his sexual impulses into overdrive,” she said. “He must mate or he will die.”

“Mate? Like... sex?” Jim clarified.

“Sex, yes, but he also needs a mental bond with the mate,” Uhura said. She lowered her eyes. “He cannot bond with me.”

The admission was more than he had ever got out of either of them about the demise of their relationship. He stared at the fire.

“Can he bond with me?”

“No, sir, you can't- he- When I say sex, I mean marathon sex,” Uhura said. “Hours and hours. You're wounded, you wouldn't be able to take it. He'd kill you in this state. And if you offer, he physically will not be able to refuse. I need you to stay put until I can get a signal out to the Enterprise. I mean it, Kirk. This is something you can't fix on your own.”

She left his side, moving to the opposite side of the fire to bend low over a huddled figure. The moan that emanated from the pile of limbs twisted at Jim's gut. Uhura stood and picked up one of their fried communicators. She moved to the mouth of the cave and sat at the edge, prying open the device.

Jim cast a glance at her, and then eyed the distance between he and Spock. Not unmanageable. He slid down the wall onto his elbows and push-crawled his way across the cave floor.

Spock radiated heat. Even though he shivered wretchedly on the cave floor, Jim could feel the heat pouring off him as he neared. “Spock. Hey, man, you all right?” Jim hissed when he got close enough. Uhura's head whipped around.

“Kirk!” she snapped, striding over to them. “I told you to stay put.”

Jim drew his legs up under him- leg, anyway. He leaned hard on one arm, gasping for breath from the exertion of his crawl. He was worse off than he thought.

“Do not concern yourself with me, Captain,” Spock said slowly, carefully. “I will survive until the Enterprise can lock onto our location.”

“You don't look so good,” Jim said, reaching out.

“No!” Uhura said sharply, her hand going for Jim's wrist.

She was too slow, and Jim's fingers brushed along Spock's forehead. He was instantly awash in an ocean of heat, rolling, crushing, suffocating. His nerves felt like they were on fire, and the fever chill pushed back with violent force.

He came back to himself with a gasp. Uhura crouched beside him, hand tight on his wrist. Spock was curled over himself, holding his face. Green blood splattered against stone floor from a split lip. Uhura's other hand was clenched in a fist. She had one knee up to protect him from Spock's advance. Jim blinked hard, fighting back the nausea that suddenly rose in his stomach.

“Oh,” he said.

“You're compatible,” Uhura said, sounding awed. “He can bond with you.” She loosened her grip. “He can bond with you and he can have sex with me.”

Her words rang harshly.

“No,” Jim said, echoed an instant after by Spock. The firelight against his face made him appear white as a sheet. “I won't allow it. We'll wait for Enterprise-”

“And how long will that be?” Uhura asked, words coming in a rush. “Our communicators were shorted out by that first blast. We're lucky we found that single pad beaming station. At least Leonard has a radius to start searching for us. It could be days. I need at least one of you cogent and preferably conscious.”

“You are human,” Spock said. Jim tried to ignore how rough his voice sounded. “I would kill you, or inflict considerable harm.”

“Please. I'm well aware how strong you are,” Uhura said. “I can take it.”

“I will not risk you,” Spock said. His voice broke against a soft gasp of pain, and Uhura's fingers flew to her skirt.

“Stop, Uhura, that is a direct order,” Jim said. She shimmied out of the skirt.

“Forgive me sir, but you're exactly capable of making knowledgeable decisions in this situation. Can you even spell pon farr?” Uhura said, tossing her skirt aside. She kicked off her shoes and peeled her socks down. “Spock, I swear you won't hurt me.”

“This is wrong, Uhura,” Jim said, trying to still his thundering heart. She crawled over Spock and pushed him onto his back next to the fire.

“Would you rather he die?” Uhura shot over her shoulder. Jim gritted his teeth. She sank against Spock. “Come on, darling. Let me help you.”

“Nyota, your endearments are unsettingly human,” Spock said softly. “Please.”

“Kirk, take his hand,” Uhura instructed. Jim didn't move. He couldn't let this happen. He was supposed to protect them, damn it. He was their leader. “Jim, please.”

Jim resisted only long enough for Spock to let another distressed sound slip from his lips. Jim reached for his hand, sliding close. The fire was warm at his back as he collapsed on his side, level with Spock. Spock closed his eyes and touched their foreheads together.

He's not quite sure what happened after that. He felt himself, lying on cold stone, his back warmed by the fire. He felt Spock, emotions raging as he dug his fingers into Uhura's skin. He felt Uhura, her body hot under his- no- Spock's. Spock's arousal washed over him in suffocating waves, cresting and choking the breath from him. They came, and Jim cried out as his wounds protested the exertion. He gasped, biting back a whimper.

Spock kept at it. The heat and pure lust didn't abate, no matter how many times he orgasmed. He went for hours, until the fire dwindled and Jim's vision spun. Jim finally felt cool serenity seep through the blasting heat, as Spock collapsed onto his side between Jim and Uhura.

Uhura sat up, clutching her arm across her breasts. Tear stains glittered on her cheeks and she stood, stumbling slightly on her way out of the cave.

“Uhura-” Jim rasped, his voice weak to his own ears. She didn't hear him, or ignored him, and disappeared into the darkness. “Shit.”

Jim rolled, trying to use Spock's body as a lever to get himself up, but his side hurt so bad. He could barely feel either of his legs now, and his boxers were a wet, sticky mess. He felt nauseous. He was definitely going to throw up.

He tried to relax, drawing deep gulps of air into his chest to fight his roiling stomach. Nope. Wasn't working.

He dry heaved onto packed dirt, coughing and spitting up saliva. The pain in his side exploded, and he blacked out again.

“Okay. Okay. You're alive. Come on, Kirk.” Uhura's hands framed his face. Everything hurt. He groaned, and she pushed a hand through his bangs. “Wake up. God. You're burning up.” Something cool pressed against his skin. He winced, trying to pull away.

“Cold,” he muttered, trying to peel his eyes open. Sunlight streamed into the cave.

“Yes, I know. You're feverish and you're bleeding through the wraps,” Uhura said tightly. “Spock's gone out to see if he can get a signal. He was able to use what was left of the phaser to start up the communicator I managed to grab.”

“Spock-”

“Spock's fine, just like I said he would be. Well, he's functioning, for now. Hopefully until we can get back to the Enterprise, or the drug wears off,” Uhura said. Jim shivered hard, almost shaking himself right off Uhura's lap. She held his head steady until the fit passed.

“Fuck,” Jim sighed miserably. He could feel a bone-wearying regret bury itself in his mind, but it felt odd. Like it was coming through a dream. He was definitely awake.

Someone entered the cave, and Uhura tensed under his head. Jim twisted. It was Spock, looking pale and very unlike his calm, logical self.

He trudged to them and crouched at Jim's side. “I was able to reach the Enterprise. Lieutenant Sulu is delivering a shuttle to our position. He should be here within the hour.” He turned his eyes to Jim. “I apologise, Captain. I am unable to severe the link at this point in time. The result would be catastrophic on both our accounts. There is a high probability that I am keeping you alive.”

“ 's fine, Spock,” Jim said with effort. It felt like a nine hundred pound Klingon was sitting on his chest. “ 's weird.” Like he was seeing himself. Feeling his own pain through a fog, and experiencing Spock's acute discomfort despite his cool outward appearance.

He must have passed out again, because the next thing he knew, he was on his back in a shuttle rocketing through the atmosphere.

“Jim!”

Bones. That was Bones' voice.

“Yeah, kid, it's me. Just hang in there. We're almost home.” A warm hand cupped his cheek. “Stay with me, Jim.”

“Doctor, he is losing consciousness again.”

“Damn it, Spock!”

And then he was home. The smells of Medical woke him, and he almost sobbed with relief when he opened his eyes to the pristine white ceiling of a wing as familiar to him as his own quarters. Bones was at his side instantly, padd in one hand, the other curling around Jim's arm.

“Welcome back, brat,” Bones said. Jim smiled and reached up to clasp Bones' arm. “You had us worried.”

“Can't get rid of me that easy,” Jim said. His throat felt cracked. Before he could ask, Bones handed him a cup of ice chips and helped him sit up. Jim popped a chip into his mouth.

“You gonna tell me what happened down there?” Bones asked. “Uhura and the hobgoblin aren't saying a word, and they are acting very strange around each other.”

“The natives attacked,” Jim said.

“I gathered that,” Bones said wryly. “What happened after, Jim? I found traces of an unknown chemical in Spock's blood. I can only assume that had to be the cause of his elevated temperature and hormonal balance. That's not it, though, is it?”

Jim shook his head slowly. “The chemical made Spock go into pon farr,” he finally said.

“That would have been helpful to know before I treated him,” Bones said with a scowl. “I'm going to call M'Benga. He's an expert in Vulcan physiology. I'll get him up here, and I'm calling Dr Benedict.”

Jim tensed. “I don't need a shrink.”

“Something happened down there, Jim, and it made Spock commit a grievous error in a basic trajectory calculation that could have sent us into a black hole. If you won't talk to me, you're going to talk to someone else. Before Spock accidentally destroys the ship.” Bones tapped out something on his padd. “Right. When you're ready, I'm discharging you to bed rest. That means no working, dumb ass.”

“Bones...”

Bones sat on the edge of the bed and ruffled Jim's hair with a soft smile. “Don't go almost dyin' on me again, Jim. The old heart can't take it.”

Jim closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. He couldn't begin to describe to his best friend what he had done. What he had helped Spock do to Uhura. Even now, his stomach clenched when he thought about it. How he couldn't do anything to stop it, to stop him.

“It'll be all right, Jim,” Bones said, his voice soft amidst the gentle whirring of life support machines. “You'll be all right.”

Jim took a deep, shuddering breath, and Bones wiped a tear from his lashes. “Shit,” Jim said, covering his eyes with his hand. Bones rubbed his arm reassuringly, driving heat into his skin. “ 'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise for what you need,” Bones said. “It's just you and me here. It's all right, Jim.” His hand continued in Jim's hair until Jim slipped back into an uncomfortable slumber.

Bones released him when he woke next, and helped him through the corridors back to his quarters. He leaned against the wall as Bones pried his door open, and Uhura rounded the corner. She froze when she saw him, and in the instant the hall light caught her face, Jim's heart stilled in his chest.

One of her eyes was blackened, and her arms displayed finger prints bruised into her flesh. With her hair pulled back, he could see bites along her throat rising red and inflamed along her skin. Jim felt the familiar swell of nausea crest in his stomach.

Chapel came around the corner just behind Uhura, and cast a fierce glare at Jim. She placed herself directly between the two, ushering Uhura through the hall towards them- and Uhura's room. Bones tugged Jim into his quarters before they crossed paths. The door shut before Jim could see Uhura again.

Jim made right for the head, dropping to his knees and throwing up the small bit of food and liquid he'd managed to eat while in Medical. The violent strain of muscle tore at his wound, sending fresh waves of pain rolling through him.

“Jim, god damn it.” Bones followed him into the head, crouching next to him. He placed a warm hand against Jim's shaking back. “You need help.”

Jim weathered Bones as he tugged up his shirt to check that he hadn't split his side open again. From the swiftness he replaced the cloth, nothing had reopened, and Bones' hand returned to his back. He rested his cheek against cool porcelain, and Bones got him a glass of water.

He expected to have Spock's debriefing on his padd before the day was over, but nothing was in his inbox by the time he fell into an uneasy rest. He woke up to two resignations, which he promptly denied. They were stronger than that. Bones was right.

Doctor Nancy Benedict came aboard the next day, with Geoffrey M'Benga close behind her. They immediately stepped into conference with Bones while Jim did his best not to eavesdrop on the room with his privileges. It took them hours, but Bones finally emerged, his face grim.

“Benedict and M'Benga feel group sessions are going to be the most advantageous,” Bones said over dinner.

“Group?” Jim stabbed at what passed for a steak on this ship.

“Yes, you, Spock, and Uhura,” Bones said. Jim tensed. “I know they both turned in their resignations to you. Do you really want them walking away?”

“I already denied them,” Jim said. Bones rolled his eyes.

“And I already know that Spock sent his higher. It's going under review tomorrow.” Bones leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “What are you going to do about it, Mr No Win Scenario? Have you even tried talking to them?”

“They're both ignoring my messages,” Jim said, sliding his food across his plate. Bones reached out and closed his hand over Jim's, stilling him.

“Jim,” Bones said, “it's killing me to see you like this. You're scared of your own crew. Let me help you.”

Jim nodded, and that was how he found himself sitting on a wide couch beside Uhura. Spock was on her other side, and if Jim didn't know better he'd say the Vulcan was sulking. Uhura perched very carefully between them. Benedict had essentially given them assigned seats.

“Good afternoon,” Benedict said, entering the room and seating herself opposite them. None answered, and Benedict smiled. “I take it you are less than thrilled to be here.”

Jim grunted noncommittally. The smile did not dim.

“My name is Nancy, and I specialise in helping groups such as yourselves get through trauma. Just tell me a bit about yourselves, starting with you, Nyota.” Nancy leaned back in her chair, padd in hand. Uhura bristled.

“Uhura,” she corrected. Nancy nodded, unperturbed. “I'm the senior linguistics analyst for the USS Enterprise.”

“Good, good. Any hobbies, Uhura?” Nancy asked. Uhura shook her head, jaw clenched tight. “All right, what about you, Mr Spock?”

“I am First Officer of the USS Enterprise,” Spock said. “I also have the pleasure of being chief science officer of the mission.”

Jim winced when Nancy turned to him. “Captain,” Jim said succinctly.

“Excellent,” Nancy said. “You are the most professional in your areas, correct?” They all nodded. “And recently you've been unable to act professionally because of an incident that involved the three of you.” Jim cast a hesitant look at Uhura, who shrugged and then conceded a nod. “Well, let's do something about that then. We're going to separate the professional from the personal. If you would all remove your stripes for me.”

Startled, Jim glanced at the other two. Spock paused briefly before unlacing his science tunic. Uhura saw him move and sighed heavily before tugging her regulation reds over her head. Jim unfastened his gold command tunic.

Nancy tapped the table at their knees, and all three of them dropped their stripes onto it. They were left in their blacks, all three of them.

“When you enter this room, you are no longer the linguistics analyst, first officer, and captain,” Nancy said. “You are Uhura, Spock, and James. Look at your blacks. You're all sentient beings, with trials and triumphs, just like everyone else in the universe. You don't have to let this define you, or your mission.” She let that sink in for a moment. “Now, would you like to introduce yourself, Uhura?”

Uhura opened her mouth, then closed it again. She closed her eyes. “My name is Nyota Uhura. I love to sing.”

Nancy beamed. She nodded to Spock, who looked slightly surprised at the admission.

“My name is Spock. I find the human condition to be utterly fascinating and confusing at the same time,” he said.

Jim swallowed hard. “My name is Jim Kirk, and when I was ten I drove a convertible off a cliff.”

Uhura and Spock both stared at him. He shrugged, uncomfortable with their scrutiny.

“On purpose?” Nancy asked. Jim shrugged, well aware this was a tactic. But he had agreed. He had agreed to try.

“Yes. It wasn't Frank's car,” Jim said. “It was my dad's.”

“Who is Frank?”

“Stepdad,” Jim said. Nancy nodded and made a note on her padd. Jim felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise defensively.

“Does anyone want to talk about what happened on the planet?” Nancy asked the three of them. Silence met her question. “I understand, Spock, you've handed your resignation to the Admiralty.”

“You can't!” Uhura said sharply. Spock blinked at her.

“It was logical. We cannot continue to function as an effective unit due to what occurred on the planet. It is in the best interests of Starfleet that we be given separate posts,” Spock said. “May I remind you that you also handed in a letter of resignation to the captain.”

“Yes, and he denied it,” Uhura said, with more than an ounce of venom. “Just like he denied yours.”

“Have you both been tapping into my private feed?” Jim cut in. Uhura and Spock had the grace to look sheepish. Uhura recovered first.

“We just wanted to make sure you weren't drafting a resignation letter,” she said, as if she had every right to. “You can't _leave_ after what you did. You have to-”

“Oh, like you two weren't trying to leave,” Jim shot back. “How am I stuck here when you two get out? That doesn't seem fair-”

“You're the captain, Kirk,” Uhura said. “It's your job to stick around, to solve problems and-”

“How can I solve a problem that involves all of us by myself? You're not making any sense, damn it-”

“Whoa, whoa,” Nancy cut in. “Hold on. Jim brings up a very good point, Uhura. Why are you allowed to resign yet demand he stay here?”

Uhura gaped for a moment. “Because he- he's the captain. This is his home.”

“This is your home too,” Jim snapped.

“It doesn't feel like it anymore,” Uhura shot back. Her eyes widened when she realised what she had just said. She put a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes.

“Why not, Uhura?” Nancy asked gently, her voice soft after the bout of yelling.

“I feel used,” Uhura said behind her hand. “I can't sleep. My friends are all on eggshells because they are most of the nursing staff. I've been cleared for duty but I resent my job now. I'm just a woman. All I have is my body.”

“That is virulently untrue,” Spock said in a low voice. “I know it means almost nothing to speak of you after what I did, but your mind has always been what attracted me to you. You are a very important part of this crew, and would do a great disservice if you left.” He reached for her and she flinched away. He pulled his hand back, clenching it into a white knuckled fist on his lap.

Uhura sighed and placed her hand over his, gripping tight. Jim reached for her other hand, twisting their fingers together. When she turned to him, he knew what he had to say.

“You are a valued member of my command crew. I would not have another communications officer if she came recommended from the highest levels of Starfleet.” He squeezed her hand. “There's a reason I wrote all those commendations for you. And they weren't just because of your good looks.”

“Are you saying I don't look good?” Uhura asked with a weak smile. Jim grinned back.

“I'm saying you have a fantastic body, and a fantastic mind,” Jim said.

“I want you to think about what they said here, Uhura,” Nancy suggested gently. “Just remember, what happened down there isn't going to constrain you. You made your place on this crew, and nothing is going to change that.” Nancy glanced at her chronometer. “That's all the time we have today. We'll be back here tomorrow. I want you to come in civvies, and bring one thing from your room that represents you. Dismissed.”

Jim's legs shook when he stood. Spock exited the room quicker than any of them, disappearing almost as soon as Nancy gave the okay. Uhura shook her head after him as she tugged on her reds. Jim managed to get one arm into his tunic, but the other proved difficult with his freshly healed wound. Uhura reached for the shirt, tugging it around him and securing it in place.

“Thanks,” he said, uncomfortable with the attention. He let one hand cover Uhura's. “Uhura, I-”

“Captain,” Uhura cut him off, stepping back from his personal space. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Uhura, will you have dinner with me?” Jim asked as she hit the panel to open the door. She shook her head, the barest sway of her hair as she left the room.

“Already making progress,” Benedict said softly from her place on the couch. Jim ignored her.

Bones had removed him from command until he could work things out with Uhura and Spock, something about not getting blood on the consoles. Jim sat at his desk, staring around the room. Something that represented him. What in the universe could he possibly have that compiled his entire being into a hand held object?

He wondered what Spock would bring. A science book, most likely. Something cool and logical. Perhaps a calculator. Uhura might bring her favourite dress, or a recording of music.

He wondered what her voice sounded like in song.

He wondered what would have happened if they had learned about each other without the aid of a professional. If this... thing hadn't come between them. They'd already proven he and Spock were a team to be reckoned with. To add Uhura to the mix... They would have been unstoppable.

Jim's eyes fell on the paperweight on his desk. He leaned forward in his chair.

Perfect.

Jim was front and centre this session, squeezed uncomfortably between Spock and Uhura. The couch had seemed much bigger the day before...

Benedict smiled. “Who wants to go first? Nobody? All right. James, what did you bring?”

Jim sighed and opened his palm. A scale model of the Enterprise, weighted to hold down paper made from trees, given to him as a gift. “This is me,” he said, surprised at how shaky his voice sounded. “Bones gave me this when I got the ship and his application for CMO. It's to scale. Um, it's the only thing I could think of...”

Benedict was smiling at him in that disconcerting manner of hers. She nodded. “Good, it's very good, James. Uhura, would you like to go next?”

Uhura's item was on her lap, and she drew back the protective cloth over it. It was a wooden board with strings stretching over the carefully lined planks. “This is a thumb piano. My people have played it for eons and my heritage is very important to me. I brought this on board to remind me of home, and where I came from and why I do what I do.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I can play it, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Benedict agreed. Their eyes fell on Spock. He actually started, and Jim was amused to see a faint dusting of green at his cheeks.

“I have determined that this game is a fair determinate of my being,” he said, drawing out a chess board. Jim's eyes went wide.

“That's a human game, Spock,” Jim pointed out cautiously. Spock nodded, turning the board over in his hands almost reverently.

“It is a masterful game of strategy and timing. When I first discovered its existence, I was uncertain a human logic game could match anything I had played on Vulcan. I was soon pleased to discover that I was wrong. Chess is a perfect balance of logic and emotion. It is very Vulcan while still very obviously human in origin.” He placed the board on the table, his fingers lingering in almost a caress. “My mother challenged me often when I was younger. I could not beat her.”

Unsure what he could do to alleviate Spock's pain, Jim reached out and put a hand on Spock's thigh, squeezing gently. Spock nodded his acknowledgement of the gesture, but said nothing. His body was tight under Jim's palm.

“Does anyone want to talk about what happened on the planet?” Benedict asked. Silence. “Spock, you look uncomfortable.”

“I always appear as such.”

Jim snorted, and Uhura glared at Spock, who had the grace to look sheepish. Spock squared his shoulders. “I am unable to ignore the fact that it was my unique biology that caused the particular circumstances that resulted in our being here.”

“Can you control your biology?” Benedict asked.

“To an extent. Pon farr is, by nature, the complete abandonment of control and therefore, it cannot be restrained,” Spock said. “I have not been able to master it.”

“Spock,” Uhura said, her voice laced with exasperation. “If you can't control it, you can't master it. What happened wasn't your fault.”

“Nonetheless, it is the cause of our current discomfort,” Spock said. “And I must take responsibility for it.”

“Well that's fine, but you can't take full responsibility,” Uhura said. “I knew what I was getting into. I made the conscious decision to help you. You did not force me.”

“Had I not been there-”

“Kirk would have died,” Uhura effectively silenced him. Jim started, unaware of this new development. He knew he had been bad off, but death? “Your bond kept him alive. Leonard told us as much. If you hadn't been on the ground with us, Kirk would have died. It's as simple as that. I think he's grateful you were there.”

“Yes, yes,” Jim said hurriedly. “Extremely grateful.”

Uhura nodded, as if her point had been proven. “The benefits outweigh the negatives,” she said. “It's ultimately a good thing you were there, or we would have been much worse off.”

Spock looked supremely unconvinced, but Benedict chimed in, “Spock, just listen to what she's saying. You don't have to agree with it right now, but take her view into consideration. Your presence on the planet did save your captain's life. As a duty-bound officer, that is worthy of note.” Spock nodded, his lips slightly down-turned. Jim thought he may be sulking. “Right, I think that concludes our session today. Same time tomorrow, then.”

She was up out of the room before any of them could move, and Jim grabbed the Enterprise from the table, cradling it in his lap. “Spock, want to go a round?” he asked, gesturing to the board. Spock's eyes narrowed slightly, as if searching for a trick.

“Certainly,” Spock said. Jim stood and moved to Benedict's seat on the other side of the table. “Black or white?”

“Oh, old school, eh?” Jim frowned. “Black. First move is yours.”

Uhura didn't leave. She shifted her thumb piano up on her lap and curled her legs up under her to watch. She idly plucked at the strings in no discernible tune, just something to fill the silence.

“Queen's pawn to D4,” Spock said.

“King pawn to D5,” Jim said. Spock cocked an eyebrow.

“Queen side bishop pawn to C4.”

“King side bishop pawn to C6.”

Spock frowned, his eyes fierce on the board. Jim reclined in the chair, letting Uhura's soft song wash over him and soothe him. “Queen side knight to C3,” Spock said.

“Ooh, back row already?” Jim grinned. Spock said nothing, merely watched as he leaned over the board. “King's pawn to E5.”

“It is early to be sacrificing pieces,” Spock said mildly. “D4 takes E5. Your pawn is mine, captain.”

Jim almost laughed. The designation had a playful sound to it, coming from Spock in this moment. “Maybe I gave him to you.”

“What makes you think it's a 'he', captain?” Uhura pointed out smoothly.

“I would not risk beautiful women on cannon fodder,” Jim said without missing a beat. Uhura grinned and slid from the couch to sit on the ground next to the table, the piano in her lap. “D5 to D4.”

Uhura leaned on the table, striking up a definite song this time, soft under their speaking voices.

“That's pretty hot that you can sing, Uhura,” Jim said, staring at her fingers plucking the strings.

“Don't eroticise my heritage,” she said without hint of malice. A soft smirk lifted her lips.

“C3 to E4,” Spock said. Jim put a hand over his mouth to cover his smile.

“Queen to A5. Check.”

Spock's gentle sound of shock surprised all of them. Uhura paused, eying him curiously. Spock's brows were drawn low over his nose as he stared at the board.

“You surprise me once again, captain,” Spock said. “E4 to D2.”

“I am fairly astonishing,” Jim said. “And just think. If you hadn't been down there, I wouldn't be here surprising you.” Spock hummed absently. “Spock.”

Spock lifted his eyes from the board.

“Thank you,” Jim said earnestly. “I mean it.”

“You are welcome, captain,” Spock said, slowly, as if he had to think carefully about those four words. He shifted. “Now, if you'll forgive me, I have a chess match to win.”

“Tough talk for someone who's already on the defensive,” Jim snipped back.

[Spock won seventeen turns later](http://www.chessgames.com/perl/chessgame?gid=1249500), much to Jim's chagrin. For his part, Spock seemed inordinately pleased with himself at having bested his captain. Uhura stayed the whole game, singing and providing helpful and unhelpful commentary at the board.

“We should do this again sometime,” Jim said casually as Spock packed the board up.

“So that Spock can beat you again?” Uhura asked politely. Jim glared at her.

“So that I can win, next time,” Jim said pointedly. Uhura laughed at him. Not with him, at him.

“I would be honoured to play you again, captain,” Spock said.

“For chrissake, Spock,” Jim said, rolling his eyes. “Jim. Call me Jim.”

“As you wish, Jim,” Spock said, feeling out the word. Jim smiled.

Uhura left with Spock, and Jim stamped down on the brief welling of hurt in his chest. They were friends, what did he expect? He couldn't help but feel that his dinner table was astoundingly empty in his quarters that night.

He curled on his side in bed and tried not to think of anything.

Someone shook him awake some time later, and he jerked out of reach, flailing.

“Be calm, Jim.”

Spock's voice issuing in the dark startled him more than being rudely awakened, and he slid across the cot, his elbow missing the mattress. He tumbled off the opposite edge, away from the voice, and gasped as air punched from his lungs. He heard the slick slide of silk on skin. Someone rounded the bed and crouched beside him.

“Kirk, you all right?”

Uhura. Uhura was here.

Jim pushed himself up and leaned against the wall beside the bed. Uhura and Spock both stood in front of him, hunched over. Jim blinked.

“How did you get in?” he finally managed. His voice was hoarse with sleep.

Spock cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I felt... distress through the bond. I... borrowed the passcode to your room.”

“ 'Borrowed'?” Jim shook his head, trying to wake up completely.

“He used the bond to get the passcode,” Uhura translated. Spock crouched, holding out a hand.

“Do you need assistance?”

Jim curled in on himself slightly. “Why are you here?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Uhura said. “Spock felt it all the way in his room.” She sighed and held out her hand. “Come. Come on.”

He hesitated, but then reached out and slid his hand along Spock's and Uhura's. They drew him to his feet and let him fall back onto the cot. Uhura climbed right up after him, manhandling him till he was up against her side as she sat upright against the wall. Jim let himself lean against her warmth.

She rested one hand on his arm as Spock perched cautiously on the edge of the mattress. Jim could almost feel his heartbeat thrumming through the thin sheets on his cot. It may have been the bond.

“You guys okay?” Jim asked, annoyed by the sleepy slur in his voice.

“Relax, Kirk. Go back to sleep.” Her hand found his hair. “We'll be here.”

He woke with his face pressed to someone's hot stomach. Much warmer than a human's. He blinked and closed his mouth, getting a decent taste of fabric for his efforts. Another arm was draped over his hips, and someone warm and curvy pressed up against his back. She shifted with a sigh, and Jim knew by the possessive hand gripping his shirt that it was Uhura.

Spock was propped against the wall, his head tilted at a horrifically uncomfortable angle, and Jim winced in sympathy at the pain surely waiting when he opened his eyes.

Jim let his head drop back into Spock's warmth. It had been a while since he'd felt so... surrounded. It was nice. Uhura's steady breathing against the fine hairs on the back of his neck reassured him. Spock was warm and pliant in his hold. He could spend forever like this.

Spock woke with a barely suppressed hiss of pain. Jim pushed himself up to give him room to move and unkink his muscles. Uhura protested the shift, burrowing deeper against Jim's back. Her hand pulled tighter at him.

“How do you feel, Jim?” Spock asked in a low voice.

“Better than you, I wager,” Jim said with a small grin. “You can use the 'fresher if you need. The frequencies may help with the knots.”

Spock nodded and carefully disentangled himself from Jim's grip to move for the head.

Jim plopped back against the pillows with a soft sigh.

“Mornin',” Uhura said hoarsely from her side. “D'you have coffee?”

“If I get you coffee, do you owe me one?” Jim joked.

“Bite me,” Uhura said, starting to push herself up. Jim pressed a light hand to her shoulder.

“Joking. I'll get it. Relax.” Jim heaved himself out of bed and staggered to the replicator. He leaned against the wall while his head stopped spinning from his quick upright. The replicator pinged when it was finished, and he carefully shuffled his way back to the bed. Uhura sat up and pushed her hair out of her face to grasp the cup blindly. “You're one of those people?” Jim couldn't resist asking.

She lifted an eyebrow over the rim of her mug.

“Bones is like that,” Jim said with an absent wave of his hand. “Don't talk to him before coffee. He will bite your head off.”

“I'm aware,” she said, her attention turned back to the steaming mug in her hand. “He tried. That's how I met him, actually, at the Academy. There was one cup of coffee left and he actually had the gall to try and take it from me.”

Jim swallowed back the laugh rising in his chest. “What happened?”

Uhura set the cup in her lap. “I didn't punch him in the face and may or may not have verbally flayed him a bit until he backed off.” She looked a bit too pleased to retell the story. Jim's smile widened. “Do not get between me and my coffee.”

“Noted,” Jim said. A comfortable silence fell over them, Uhura still working through her cup. “How are you?” Jim finally asked. Uhura pursed her lips and closed her eyes.

“Better. It's never going to go away, but I can handle Spock touching me more. Seeing you alive is definitely helping,” she said. “You were so pale and there was nothing I could do. I didn't have the supplies.” Her hands shook around the mug in her lap.

“Can I?” Jim asked quietly, reaching a hand for her. She nodded tightly, the barest ripple of her hair, and he closed his hand over her wrist. “It's all right.”

“I know. Logically,” she said with a wry smile. “It's the subconscious that is giving me issues. Damned human physiology.”

“Hey,” Jim said lightly, “Could be worse. We could be Squidarian.”

Uhura wrinkled her nose at the mention of the slimy cepholopods they had encountered a few months back. The entire landing party had been kept in decon for a week until they could scrape the last bit of mucus off their skin.

“It is unprofessional to be speaking in disparaging terms concerning recent additions to the Federation, Captain.”

Spock emerged from the head slightly flushed. Jim rolled his eyes. “Spock. I'm in bed, half naked, on medical leave. I'm as far away from professional as I can get.”

Uhura beckoned Spock near, and he approached her, holding out his hand. She touched the tips of their fingers together, and both their expressions soothed almost instantly. Jim felt that pang again, that he was missing something. Jealousy. They were so close, even if not officially in a relationship.

“I am still bonded to you, Jim,” Spock said suddenly. Jim jumped. Spock joined them on the bed, sitting against Uhura's legs. “It is not overt, but something is troubling you.”

“I'm fine, Spock,” Jim said. Uhura nailed him with a fierce glare.

“Don't. Lie,” she said firmly. “We both told the truth to you. The least you can do is return the favour.”

“You guys are great together,” Jim said, rolling onto his back to stare anywhere but their faces. “I don't understand why you broke up.”

The bed shifted. Uhura stretched herself out along Jim, the coffee mug gone from her hand. She reached for his face and took his chin in her hand, turning him to face her. “Sometimes, even love isn't enough for a relationship,” she said. Jim frowned. “And no, it wasn't about the sex either. Vulcans need the mental bond along with the emotional and physical. Body chemistry prevents me from fulfilling that need for him, despite our efforts.” Spock's hand appeared at her shoulder. “We officially broke up to let him try and find someone who was compatible.”

“I'm compatible,” Jim said, a little too quickly. He swallowed hard. She nodded.

“And you're not completely loathsome,” she said generously. Jim winced. “What we're trying to say, Jim, is that we're interested in getting to know you better.”

His eyes went so wide they ached. He jerked onto his elbows, staring at them both. “Even after-” He choked off. “Even after I let-”

“You didn't 'let' anything,” Uhura said sharply. “I knew what I was getting into. And yes, it's awful, but we can get through it. Together.”

“Uhura, I'm-”

“Nyota,” she cut him off smoothly. He clicked his jaw shut, casting Spock a helpless glance.

“It is fortunate that you proved to be compatible to a bond,” Spock said. “We would not have discovered what was... missing.”

Jim let his surprise fall as a long, deliberated exhale while he processed this. To be a part of this... To be _invited_... “I think... I'd like that,” Jim said. Spock smiled, the slightest of upturn of his lips. Nyota grinned, her hand warm on Jim's side. Jim curled a hand in her hair and tugged her down.

She slipped her palm over his lips before he could get too close. “Not till you've brushed your teeth and shaved,” she said, with an eyebrow cocked. Jim groaned and fell back against the bed.

Nyota laughed and hit him with a pillow.


End file.
